


what is done

by sumaru



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Evangelion, Injury, M/M, Masturbation, Minor Violence, Weird Timeloops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 13:17:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9898835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sumaru/pseuds/sumaru
Summary: Kageyama Tobio, xx years old, stands by himself in front of a port window and watches as they launch an Evangelion into the sky without him.Evangelion AU. They keep trying, and they keep failing.





	

Kageyama wakes up to the alarm wail of sirens.

 

“What’s your name,” they ask.

 

“Ka, Kageyama Tobio,” he finally stammers. It takes him a moment; he’s strapped loosely on his back on a stretcher, being wheeled rapidly through the dark belly of what looks to be an aircraft carrier, cables looped low across the ceiling like a spill of innards, and every time the wheels jump over the heavy metal plates bolted to the floor, he feels his mind reset to blank. “I’m fifteen years old,” he adds, because it seems like a helpful thing to say, and he really wants to be helpful.

 

“No, you’re not,” they reply, and Kageyama doesn’t know if they mean he’s not Kageyama Tobio, or that he’s not fifteen years old, but then the lights start flashing emergency red, and to them he ceases to be either of those things at all.

 

Kageyama Tobio, xx years old, stands by himself in front of a port window and watches as they launch an Evangelion into the sky without him. The aqua and white planes of its body are familiar like the instant gravity drop in his stomach, and so is the strange ache of watching it hang graceful and dangerous across the blood red line of the horizon, and Kageyama doesn’t realise his face is pressed right up against the glass until his breath clouds the view.

 

When he wipes away the condensation there is nothing but red in the sky again.

 

Kageyama’s hands curl like claws around themselves, the nakedness of his empty palms a raw feeling he tries to work his words around; with want for a breathless feeling, with flight. But he doesn’t know what to do, abandoned here like this, so he continues to stand there, mouth slightly agape.

 

“Oikawa-san, please,” he says helplessly, instead.

 

\--

 

Oikawa wakes up to the alarm wail of sirens.

 

There is death in the air, and it is screaming for him by name; he can see the wide spread of its many white wings as it blocks out the sun, casts moving shadows in the water. It should be cold inside his Evangelion cockpit, plunged deep into the lake to safeguard him against the intruders, but instead it’s hot, it’s unbearably hot and stuffy and he can taste his own recycled breaths in the LCL that surrounds him, and Oikawa wants nothing more than to claw his way out, claw his way _up_.

 

He remembers all too well the sting of losing ground; steadily, and then much too fast.

 

“I’m taking it back, Tobio” Oikawa snarls into the comm as he breaks through the surface of the water, and his teeth are bared white, bared like the teeth of his Evangelion, riotous against the entirety of the world.

 

When they lance through the knee of his Evangelion to cripple him, and then the eye to ground him, the rush of white wings when they descend like carrion bird is almost beautiful, and when they pull the steaming guts apart with hands curled tight and greedy, all too human, Oikawa is still screaming Tobio’s name, hands clutching at his own belly.

 

(The comm is nothing but static in reply and then one single, quavering breath.)

 

(Over the hill, Major Sugawara pushes a wide-eyed boy past the closing elevator doors to save him.)

 

\--

 

Oikawa’s nose is scrunched up, unimpressed; his arms are crossed over his mint green crop top as he eyes the duo collapsed in a sweaty pile before him. They’ve been trying to perfect this dance choreography for hours. “You think you and Chibi-chan have what it takes, but if you can’t sync your rhythm here, what makes you think you can sync your attacks out there?”

 

It’s hot, it’s so hot here in this stuffy room, with only the slow whirring of a ceiling fan to push the hot air around, and Oikawa has never liked the heat. He doesn’t even let Kageyama grumble a reply as he leaves the two of them, panting on the ground; he tries not to think of the empty space where he used to have a partner, too.

 

There’s a 7/11 around the corner, and Oikawa browses the cold drinks slowly, uses the excuse to stick his head into the cool air of the tall fridge. There’s a row of milk boxes right in front of him, the brand with a grumpy little giraffe on it that strikes something so familiar and fond in Oikawa, he’s reaching for one before he can stop himself, and he swallows down the hardness that rises like bile in his mouth.

 

“I’ll just make the little brat work for it,” Oikawa mouths under his breath, lips curled in something that might have been a smile, and there’s two milk boxes in his hand as he walks back, the sun already setting behind him, taking the heat of the day with it.

 

(He just misses Kageyama, crouched behind the third aisle, wide-eyed and wondering, with a packet of milk bread in his hand.)

 

\--

 

“I’ve always looked up to you, Oikawa-san. I wanted you to--”

 

“You’ve never done anything but piss me off.”

 

Kageyama has never liked the taste of coffee; it’s much too bitter, it’s always served much too hot. And as it spills burning down his shirt where Oikawa threw a cupful of it in his frustration, Kageyama can smell the bitterness of it rise to suffocate him.

 

“I didn’t mean to.”

 

“You never _mean_ anything you do, Tobio, because you never learn, but now everyone is gone and I’m stuck with _you_.”

 

Oikawa doesn’t turn around to look at him, after that.

 

\--

 

Kageyama can’t stop staring.

 

He knows he shouldn’t, knows that if Oikawa were to wake at this very moment, nothing could prepare Kageyama for the sharpness of Oikawa’s mouth that would cut into him, leave him prickling with humiliation, bowed low. And maybe Kageyama wants that, maybe he’s been chasing for so long, this is the only place it could have led him.

 

Oikawa’s lips are parted softly with each intake of breath, and the neckline of his pale blue hospital gown is pulled low across the chest; soft skin stretched delicate across collarbones, too pale. There’s little muscle left, Oikawa has been sleeping for so long in this deep coma.

 

It was a bad day, Kageyama remembers, when they found him.

 

So Kageyama tries not to remember, sinks instead into the white noise at the back of his head; remembers when Oikawa had breathed softly across his mouth, a dare, and when Oikawa’s long fingers had tangled into his shirt, and then pinched his nose so hard it had made tears smart his eyes, but he didn’t want to lose so he had met Oikawa head on.

 

He had squawked anyway, surprised even in his stubbornness; but Oikawa’s lips had been soft, and they were almost gentle, tasting of mint chapstick, and he remembers that most as the heart monitor attached to Oikawa keeps time with Kageyama’s hand slicking in rhythm around himself.

 

Everything feels blown out and white, in this tiny room with nothing but the smallest pieces of them both, and when Kageyama’s own breath stutters, and then his heartbeat too, in this quiet broken moment only Oikawa’s heart monitor continues on without change.

 

The humiliation doesn’t feel the same at all.

 

\--

 

Oikawa doesn’t wake.

 

\--

 

The first time Kageyama sees him, Oikawa is in freefall, he’s vaulting over the open sea in an elegant arc of aqua and white falling against the open blue of the bright noon sky, and the light glancing off his Evangelion’s armour is more blinding than the sun rising high over the horizon. The sky is so blue, and the Evangelion is so blue, and Kageyama had felt like in that moment he couldn’t breathe at all.

 

 _There's nothing he can't do_ _,_ Kageyama remembers thinking, and it’s what he holds onto now, crouched in the dirt under the flimsy metal railing, and he still can’t breathe, can’t move for the rattle of gunfire in the distance, and the screams filling the air. He thinks he can hear his name and he wants to go out and meet it, but the weight of the entire air above him is crushing. Kageyama remembers backs being turned, and not understanding, and he thinks if he just closes his eyes tight enough, if he repeats the words inside his mouth often enough, just like piloting his Evangelion out into the fray, he will be better at them.

 

“Oikawa-san, please,” he says helplessly, instead. But it comes out as nothing but a breath.

 

\--

 

Kageyama and Oikawa wake up to the silence at the end of the world.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Writing this completely wiped me out for an entire Bonus Round because it was that emotionally taxing, but as a result it's very dear to me -- let it be the only thing I save from my shadow account.
> 
> Title taken from the track "Famously...." from Evangelion Q.


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